It is not. What sits in a field north of a house once known as Sea View is almost certainly a tree-ring, a low circular bank and outer ditch constructed to protect and frame a single ornamental tree within a designed landscape. The bank itself measures roughly twelve metres across, rises only half a metre on its outer face, and encloses an interior that tilts gently eastward. Understated to the point of near-invisibility, it is the kind of feature that rewards only those who already know what they are looking for.

The mix-up is understandable. Without context, a low earthen ring with a shallow surrounding ditch can read as prehistoric to anyone scanning a map or walking a field. The feature appeared on the 1913 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map as one of five such circular markings clustered in the same field, yet none of them appear on the earlier 1837 edition, which instead shows the field scattered with trees. The house they border, named Sea View on that 1837 map, was clearly a property of some standing, approached by a laneway from the main road that cuts through the very field in question. The tree-rings, dating to after 1700, were almost certainly part of the ornamental grounds laid out around the house, each small earthwork serving as a planting platform and protective ring for a specimen tree. It is a feature more associated with designed demesne landscapes than with archaeology in any strict sense, which makes its long misclassification as a barrow quietly telling about how easily the formal gardening conventions of the eighteenth or nineteenth century can be mistaken for something far older.